School Days
by Rawhide
Summary: Ever wonder what our favorite child stalker's life was like when he was in Middle High school? I got this idea while watching Freddy's Dead The Finale Nightmare. Please Review.
1. Chapter 1

**School Days**

**Summary: Ever wonder what life was like for our favorite child staker when he was young? This was just a random story I thought of when I was watching _Freddy's Dead: The Finale Nightmare.

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"Freddy!" A voice called as it filled the room. "Godamned it, Freddy! Wake the hell up, boy!"

The voice belonged to a man in his mid to late thirties. The man had on a white shirt that was stained with alcohol, and some other strange substances. His hair and beard were greasy. He gazed upon a somewhat sleeping boy, about twelve years old, with sandy blonde hair. As he yelled he unfastened his belt.

'Not again.' Freddy thought when he saw what his _dad_ was doing.

Dad took the belt, and began to smack him with it.

Freddy whinced after each blow. It tore open old scars, and they began to ooze, along with some new ones. The old man always avoided his face, or else someone might see. The last thing he wanted was for someone to take away his, punching bag.

Freddy's morning was always like this. Wake up to a drunken bastard, get beat, get changed, wait for the bus, got to school, get picked on, come home, get beat some more, find something to eat, go down in the basement, sleep, and start the whole process over again. Sometimes he'd get lucky and _mom_ would be home. She'd always _give_ him something to eat instead of finding a way around the old drunk. Not to mention he only got one beating.

"Now come on!" The old man screamed. "Get ready!"

Freddy did as he was told. The first thing he did, though, was get some band-aids for them new cuts. He was so thankful the old guy upstairs didn't notice he stole these.

When he was finished placing the bandages on his back, sides, and some other places, he got changed. His usual outfit consisted of a red shirt with a green vest. Then, again, it was his only outfit. Freddy then brushed his hair with his fingers, and ran outside to wait for the bus.

It was mid October. The weather was cold, and so was he. Freddy thought it was much better freezing out here, then it was to be inside with his dad.

Within minutes, a large yellow bus came up Elm Street.

'Finally!' he thought as climbed up in.

Freddy normally sat by himself. He liked it that way. No one bugged him, or picked on him. The jocks on the bus always had a tendency to bulley the kids who were adopted. He knew he was adopted, and that hell they call a school, never let him forget it. He was a mistake. Never meant to be born, but it happend. The kids would usually call him "Son of a Hundred Maniacs."

This was true however. No one knows who his real dad was because his mother was raped in an asylum. Thier were excactly one hundred patients were Amanda Krueger, his mother, was accidentally locked in.

'Just seven more hours, Fred,' he thought to himself. 'Just seven strenuous hours.'

About ten minutes later, the bus pulled up in front of the Springwood Middle School. All the students got off the bus and headed towards the door, and went to thier home room class.

Freddy sighed when he reached the door. "Just one more day, and it'll be the weekend!" He said to himself. Freddy walked through the doors.

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**Disclaimer: I don't own A Nightmare on Elm Street.**

**Authors Note: I hope everyone enjoys the story! I will update it soon! Sorry for the short chapter!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please Review!**

**-Rawhide**


	2. Chapter 2

"CLASS!" A woman shouted from in front of the small classroom. "We WILL have a test today! I hope EVERYONE studied!"

The whole class payed attention to her. Freddy was looking up at her.

'Great!' he thought to himself. 'Now that mom finally gave me them papers back yesterday, we're having the test today! And all I did was ask for a little help! I'm not ready for this! Shoulda played hooky again...No! Then dad would find out somehow or another and I'll get no supper for another week! Damn... Life sucks!'

"FREDDY!" The teacher yelled. "ARE YOU LISTENING?"

She took a few steps toward where Freddy was sitting. The woman slapped a yard stick on his desk causing him to flinch.

"Didn't you hear me?" The teacher asked glaring at him. "ARE YOU LISTENING?!"

"Yes." He answerd.

"'Yes?' THAT'S IT!" The teacher growled.

"Sorry. Yes, ma'am." Freddy replied quickly.

"That's more like it!" She walked back to where she was originally standing. Freddy slid down in his chair.

'Damn! I hate that Bitch,Mrs.Ander, so shit'n much...'

"WHAT!?"

Freddy's head shot up. The dark haired teacher was glaring at him. Her brown eyes were wide and full of anger.

'Damn...Thinking out loud, again...' He thought.

"MR. KRUEGER!" Mrs. Ander screamed. "COME WITH ME, NOW!"

Feddy gulped before he nodded, and got up out of his desk.

One of the boys next to him snickerd.

"Good luck, Krueger!" He hissed. "Hope ya don't get it _to_ bad!"

Freddy snarled at him.

"I don't appreciate you harrasing Mr. Thompson like that, Freddy!" Mrs. Ander said through gritted teeth.

Freddy turned to her with a dumbstruck look.

'How the hell does she suspect _I_'m harrassing _him_?' Freddy thought.

Freddy and Thompson have always been enimies. Ever since they were in pre-school, they've been at each other's throats. It was mostley Thompson who has been causing most of the trouble. Freddy swore that one day he'd kill him, or die trying.

"Mr. Krueger!" The furious teacher said sternly. "Quit dwadling and come here NOW!"

Freddy walked towards her.

"Be have class while I handle Freddy." Mrs. Ander said sweetly to the class.

"Yes, Mrs. Ander." The class replied back.

She grabbed Freddy by his ear and dragged him to the principal's office.

'Shit...shit...shit...shit...' Freddy thought to himself as he was tip-toeing down towards the office. The only reason for that was because Mrs. Anders was lifting his ear so high.

He knew nothing good ever came from the office. Everytime he went down there, the principal would call his dad, and he could here him yelling over the phone. When he'd get home, then his father would probely beat him, again.

'I might get lucky!' Freddy thought as he grinned a little. 'Mabey he won't be home, or he'd be buisy with his mother!'

Mrs. Ander and Freddy reached the office.

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**Disclaimer: I don't own A Nightmare on Elm Street.**

**Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed the story! The next chapter will be up soon.**

**Thanks for Reading!**

**Please Review!**

**-Rawhide**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: sorry I haven't been on in a while. Oh, well, here's the new chapter...

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Freddy was seated in one of the several chairs outside the actual office. The walls were a pale yellow with some of the paint beginning to peel off. His teacher and the principal were in the true office blabbing about something. Most likely his _bad _behavior.

'Bitch...' Freddy thought as he waited.

The silouhette of the principal picked up a phone and started dialing numbers.

'Damn! Now I really won't get supper.' Freddy thought again. 'Shit...'

The wooden door slammed open.

"Mr. Krueger!" Mrs. Ander called. "Your father would like a word with you."

Freddy sighed and hopped off his chair. A knot was caught in his throat. How could he possibley listen to that drunk, now?

The office was a little smaller then his class room. A red rug was spread across the floor. The same sickening yellow was on the walls. An older man was sitting behind a big wooden desk filled with papers. The man was probely in his late thirties early fourties. Dark brown hair with a few strands of grey was slicked back. His eyes were a deep green. A tan suit with a red tie is what he wore. The name Mr. Lalman was on a plaque.

"Freddy," Mr. Lalman said calmly. "Your dad is on the phone." He handed it to Freddy.

"Yay..." Freddy said sarcastically as he reached for it.

"Hello?" He murmered into the phone.

"WHAT IN SAM HELL ARE YOU DOING DOWN THERE, BOY?!" His father's voice roared from the other line.

"Letting my feelings out to the teacher..." Freddy replied in a low tone.

"YOUR DAMN RIGHT YOU DID!" His father's voice came back. "WHAT IN GOD'S NAME WHERE YOU THINKING, YOU LITTLE SON OF A BITCH!"

"Things a little to loud..." Freddy answered.

"DON'T you DARE get cocky with me." His father growled. "You better straighten your ass out, or I'll do it for you!"

Freddy gulped before he gave his reply.

"I will..." He said.

"Damn right you are." Freddy's dad hung up the phone.

"Done, Mr. Krueger?" Mr. Lalman asked.

Freddy nodded and handed the phone to him.

"You do relieze what you did was un called for. Don't you?"

'Why the hell is this bastard so gay?' Freddy thought before answering, "Yes, sir."

"Good! Now, get back to class!" Mr. Lalman smiled.

Freddy turned around and walked out of the room. He did hear Mrs. Ander protest about not punishing him. Who cares? She's a bitch.

When Freddy reached his homeroom...

"Look who it is!" Thompson called from his seat. "Get beat again, Fred?"

Freddy rolled his eyes and sat down.

The rest of the students were watching Thompson and Freddy. It was never unusual for them to start name calling, or fighting.

"Looks like the son of a hundred maniacs lost his voice..." Thompson said mockingly. "I can fix that."

Thompson made a fist and punched at Freddy as hard as he could in the Adam's apple.

Freddy coughed spastically.

"What the...(cough)...hell was...(cough)...that for?" Freddy barked.

"What do you know?" Thompson said with a grin on his face. "The nerd can speak!"

Freddy let out a low growl-like noise before kicking his enemy in the side, causing him to fall out of his chair.

"WHAT THE HELL?" He screamed.

Thompson got up after panting a bit. He aimed a kick at Freddy, but missed. Freddy, in return, nails him in the face. Four crimson paralel lines drip down his nemisis's face. Thompson touched one and blood soaked his fingers.

Freddy looked down at his finger nails and notices crimson under neath them along with pieces of skin.

"You bastard!" Thompson said through gritted teeth. "You will pay..."

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**Disclaimer: I don't own a Nightmare on Elm Street.**

**Authors Note: Thanks for reading! I'll try to update soon!**

**Please Review!**

**-Rawhide**


	4. Chapter 4

The last few words that came from Thompson never phased Freddy. He was hypnotised by the four crimson lines that zig-zagged down his face. The drops of blood would then slip down onto his white collar. He grinned.

"Hey, Dip-shit!" Thompson called again. "Didn't you hear me!?"

Freddy looked up at him. "Nope." Was the simple answer he gave.

"You bastard!" Thompson yelled as he lunged at Freddy.

Fortunatley for Fred, Thompson's leg got caught in a chair, and he flipped over.

"Smooth." Freddy said almost laughing at him.

When Thompson looked up, a new streak of crimson ran down his face. His nose was bleeding.

"WHAT IN HELL IS GOING ON!?"

The students looked around to see a very angry Ms. Anders.

"Freddy beat me up!" Thompson exclaimed revieling his scratch marks and nose.

"MR. KRUEGER!" She yelled. "WHAT IN HELL HAS GOT INTO YOU LATELY?"

Freddy looked down. His face was tensing as he gritted his teeth and his fingers curled into fists.

"DETENTION!" Mrs. Anders yelled. "BOTH OF YOU!"

With the last word, the bell rang to end school.

"Mrs. Anders?" Freddy asked in a low voice.

"WHAT?!" She yelled back to the teenager.

"Can I...Uhh...make a phone call?" Freddy asked looking at the tiled floor.

Mrs. Anders frowned. "What the hell for?" she sneered.

"I... just need to... inform my father-" Freddy started, but was soon cut off by the fuming teacher.

"I ALREADY INFORMED HIM!" She shouted. "NOW GO!"

Freddy turned and left the room. The hall was filled with students running like a pack of buffalo trying to leave. A few older students shoved him into some lockers and ran out of the school. 'She'll pay...' He thought as he walked closer and closer to the principal's office. 'They'll all pay...'

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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot**

**Author's Note: I'd just like to thank everyone for reading. The next chapter will be up soon.**

**-Rawhide**


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: Sorry it took so long to update! I just wanted to inform you all that the "F" word will be used sometimes in this chapter.**

Freddy walked slowly down the street. It was nearing six o' clock, and the sun still hasn't gone down yet. Everywhere he turned he could see children. Happy children. Children who happily played games, without a care in the world. Theses children were either playing with each other, or with thier parents. Diffrent games went on at all the houses. Games like hopscotch, softball, jumprope, and other various activities.

"Damn them..." Freddy said with a frown. He secretly longed for a life like that...

He took the turn down Elm Street and looked down the rows of happy houses, except his, that is. Freddy spat at them and kept on walking. He soon reached the door. Before he could open the it, the door flew open, knocking him over.

His dad stood there in the door way. In one hand was a bottle of whiskey, his belt was in the other.

"Where ave youd beene boyve?" He asked in his slurred, drunken language.

Freddy looked down. "Walking..."

"Zill zix a clock at nigh?"

"Umm...YEAH!" Freddy said quickly as he saw his dad raise the belt. He knew his dad's patience all to well. If he stuttered, he'd know that belt would fall on him more then what that demented bastard had planned.

"You slier!" His dad yelled as he dropped the whiskey cask, and dragged Freddy into the house.

He took the squirming boy down in the basement. His girlfriend saw.

"STOP IT!" She yelled. "HONEY! PLEASE! IT'S HIS FIRST DETENTION!"

"I don gigve a fuch if it's hsss-" his head started bobbing up and down. "twentyth!"

The woman, who was only wearing a set of skimpy PJ's, just shook her head and walked away.

'DAMN IT!' Freddy thought. 'Whay in hell don't she EVER stick up to this bastard?'

With that, Freddy's dad drug him down the stairs. His dad threw the thin boy across the room. Freddy hit his back hard against the hard concrete walls. His dad held the belt up in the air.

Freddy shut his eyes tight as the first blow fell. All he did for it was flinch.

"Thissl teash you tal be a slier, yourv teasher called jus a fue minuetes befare you arrived."

He smacked Freddy with the leather belt again. This one cut over a cut from two days ago, renewing the pain, and sending a shudder going up Freddy's spine.

This went on for a full hour in a half before his father's blows started getting weaker, and weaker. Within minutes, his dad was completeley out of breath.

"I sink thas goo anough..." He turned around and walked slowly and akwardley up the stairs.

Freddy looked up.

"I'm gonna kill him..." He said quietley, but forcefully. "It might be the last thing I do, but I'll kill them. All of them will feel my pain..."

With these thoughts going threw his head, he curled up on the cot in his room, and fell asleep.

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**Authors note: Sorry again for the short chapter. I hope you do like the new update.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please Review, and thanks if you do!**

**-Rawhide**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Once again, so sorry for taking so long!**

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It has been nearly four months since Freddy got the detention and his beating. 

He was home on time and found his father laying passed out on the couch with a bottle of whiskey at his side. This was one of Freddy's rare moments when he could do just about anything he wanted. But, something about the scenery didn't feel right. His girlfriend was no where in sight.

'Why the hell do I care?' Freddy though to himself.

He made sure his father was securely passed out before making his way up the stairs. He couldn't't get over the feeling that something was wrong.

The stairs were made out of old oak and covered with a depressing green colored rug. Cobwebs hung from the hand rails and cracks with roaches were to the opposite side. An awful smell mixed in with the usual damp smelling room.

Freddy couldn't't figure it out, but somewhere deep inside of him, he almost liked it. The smell was warm, yet trashy. Almost like the odor of vomit after it sat around for a few days.

He also noticed some crimson colored spots every inch or two apart. The closer Freddy climbed, the more their was. He'd never noticed it before, yet, then again, he was NEVER allowed up here.

"What the heck happened?" Freddy questioned.

Soon, the stairway got darker and darker. Freddy could no longer see anything.

"Damn lights. Why didn't the dumb shit down their fix them?" He whispered as he felt his way across with his foot.

As he was walking, the floor became to feel more damp and sticky. It was as if someone threw oil or something all over the carpet. Then, Freddy's foot and some shards collided.

Freddy felt the little objects easily make their way up into his foot and piercing it's flesh. From what Freddy could make out, it was a smashed beer bottle.

As much as he wanted to, Freddy couldn't't sit down. If he couldn't't tell a beer bottle was in the way, he didn't want to know what he would sit on. He just had to keep going, and hope the glass pieces wouldn't go to far up his left foot.

The pain was almost unbearable, but his curiosity was even more.

The odor was stronger then ever. Freddy felt the hall way with one hand and used the other to help sturdy himself. Soon, the one hand felt some small switches. He knew they were the lights. Freddy used his fingers and flipped them up. Nothing.

"Damn!" He cursed aloud.

Freddy pushed them down and back up again. Still nothing.

He tried again, and again, and again. There was a flicker.

Freddy sighed in frustration and flicked the switches on and off again, until one time, they stayed on.

The sight almost shocked him enough to fall backward.

All the doors were slightly bashed in, especially his dad's. The crimson goop covered all the walls and was even still dripping in spots. The carpet was the same color. There was so much of it, that the crimson looked like a natural color for the rug. Glass also helped decorate the scene. Also peeking out of his dad's room, was a dainty, pale hand.

Freddy knew he should have ran back downstairs and called the cops like any ordinary kid would do, but Freddy didn't. The scene didn't scare him. He felt no emotion towards it. Except admiration. He liked the panicked scene.

Freddy ran over to see the corpse of the once friendly yet ditzy girlfriend and saw it mutilated. Glass stuck out of her skull like pine needles on a pine tree. Eyes were wide with horror. And a long gash in her chest proved to be the killing blow. A long razor blade hung in one of the corners. Freddy picked up the shiny metal piece and examined it's sharp, blood stained sides. He could see his reflection in it and also saw the woman's silenced scream in the backround. He felt angry.

He quickly turned around and faced the dead woman. He remembered all them times she could have done something about his father. The times when she could have called the police. The times she could have done anything!

With these thoughts running threw his head, he raised the razor high above his head, and finally got his shot at the bitch as he used the razor to cut through her tender flesh.

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**Authors Note: Once again sorry for not updating sooner!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

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_**AN: Yeah, I know it's been FOREVER since I updated, but I'm motivated again, so yeah.**_

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Freddy glanced at himself in the mirror shard. Blood streaked his face and hands. His striped sweater also had a dark maroon stain on it. The young boy turned on the faucet and washed the blood off of his hands. Never before has he felt... alive.

"She deserved it," He told himself. "It's what she was doing to me on the inside."

He looked over his shoulder to view the corpse. Her head was no longer on her long slim neck, her once blond hair was stained red and tied in a knot around the severed neckline where Freddy cut. The rest of her body looked like it got into a fight with a cougar. Four verticle lines equally spread apart separated the body, none of the slabs were in the right spot. He smiled to himself as he looked at it, and frowned as he watched the bitch's blood flow down toward the drain.

His body was shaking when he thought of his father. When he sees this, what will happen? He will not be happy.

It was nearly night when his father so much as stirred.

"FREDDY!" He called. "You goooodaammmned son of biiitch. Bring me a beeer."

'That's just what you need, fucker." Freddy thought as he went to the fridge and retrieved a blue can from it.

We walked cautiously toward his father, trying to not look up the stairs at the 'mess' he made.

"It's 'bout goddamned time yoou got here, b-boy." His father said reaching for the beer.

"Dad," Freddy started. "What the hell stinks up stairs."

His father looked at him. "Probably more shit like you rotting around." He took a sip of the drink, and collapsed back into his chair.

Freddy frowned. His father doesnt' even remeber killing his own slut? Why would you ever forget a thrill like that? Freddy wondered to himself. He almost started to feel tired. Looking at the clock he saw it was about 10:30. He knew he had school the next day. It would be hard enough to sleep as it is. Slowly he made his way down the stairs and into his room.

His alarm was his father screaming.

Freddy awoke with a jump. He ran up the stairs and into the room where his father had previously passed out.

"Holy fuck! Jesus son of God! Holy fuck!"

Freddy looked up the stairs and saw his father leering down at the slaughtered woman. Hearing his step son's footsteps, the angry man turned around.

"What the hell did you do?" He yelled. "What in the name of fuck did you do?"

Freddy looked at his father.

"What did I do?" He asked feigning innocent.

"You know damn well what you did, boy!" His father yelled walking toward his son.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Freddy said backing away, and looking towards the body. "You drunk! You killed your hooker!"

Freddy's father grabbed hold of his throat and slammed the kid against the wall.

"She wasn't a hooker!" He yelled. "And I didn't kill her! All I did was slam her head against a mirror!"

'Yeah dad, that's not going to kill anyone or anything,' Freddy thought to himself.

"What the hell are we going to do, you peice of dog shit!" His father yelled.

"Don't look at me," Freddy replied. "I didn't do it."

His father set his son down. "Go to school."

Freddy didn't have a problem with that command. He looked at his father, and ran out the door.


End file.
